tourquoise tides
by centralperks
Summary: Everything about love comes from experience, because not everyone's cut out for fairytales -DominiqueScorpius


**notes:** written for my amyzing fiance whom I love, Ella-Beth. Happy Birthday, dear! :)

Also written for the prompts thread over at the NextGen Fanatics, with the prompt 'serenity'.

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.

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><p>Well, she's Dominque and she's a thousand times better up close, isn't she?<p>

She shines among the fields of grass, the white amongst the red, the sun against the stars. She's picture-perfect, and shimmery blue fairylights.

For a girl like her, everyone expected her to have gold sparkle as her fairytale, but honestly honey, that was always more Victoire than it was Dominique, didn't you know?

Because Dominique isn't really sure what she knows about love, anyways.

See, she has the best examples laid out on the white-clothed table in front of her. Victoire and Teddy are something out of a fairytale, and she can see the shimmer falling off them when they're together, and they smile and laugh and lick ice creams cones together, and she thinks that's what real love is. Louis and Stella, the playboy and the quiet painter, and she thinks cliché is the way to love.

But darling, when was the last time you saw Rose and Scorpius together?

She watches Lily and Lorcan fit together like a puzzle piece the first time they met when they were six (although it took them another nine years to figure it out), and she thinks childhood friends is the way to real love.

The first time they officially meet is at Victoire's graduation party. It's not exactly the prince and princess setting, and no sparks fly. She doesn't fall head over sneakers the first time she meets his silver gaze, and at first, her heart doesn't go thud at the sight of his smile. But every time after that, they talk at parties, they meet at outings.

"Enjoying yourself?" Scorpius asks at Rose's birthday party, sipping the bubbly champagne. She smiles, and takes the fragile goblet from his hands, spilling the contents into her own mouth. It fizzes on her tongue, the golden liquid making it's way down her throat.

"It's been all right," she says, leaning back on the countertop. She tugs at the coral ribbon that holds her blonde hair away from her face. He leans with her, and they pass the champagne back and forth, until the goblet is empty. Dominique takes the neck in between her hands, and dances her fingertips over the twisted vines of glass.

Scorpius takes her hand in his and leads her out the door, and for the first time, Dominique feels her palms start to sweat and her heart beating faster underneath her white sundress. She breathes in through her nose and lets herself be dragged out into the night.

It's dark out, and the stars are sparkling. Dominique notices that his fingers are still threaded between hers, but she says nothing.

They walk farther and farther away from Shell Cottage, closer to the beach that Dominique is so familiar with. The waves crash in a familiar rhythm, and Dominique hums along with it.

Sticking her feet out into the thick tide, it rushes over her bare skin and stings her. She recoils instinctively, the tide not what she thought it would be.

They walk along the shoreline for some time, the sand cold. Dominique feels her scarf start to slip loose, and Scorpius grabs it for her and wraps it back around her neck.

"Thanks," she says, smiling.

It's probably one of the best nights of her life.

…

She wakes up the next morning, and throws her hair hap-hazardly in a ponytail, and squirmes into cutoffs. Dominique dances down to the beach to watch the sunrise.

Leaning back on her hands, she lets the yellow sand sink between her fingers. The tourquoise tide rushes in over her toes once more, but this time, it's much warmer than it was a few hours ago.

The sun rises slowly, it's rays bleeding the pinks and oranges together in the sky. Red stains the sky like abstract art, and orange spreads its wings. Dominique sits feeling smaller than she ever has before.

She thinks of Scorpius, and of love, and of everything she thought she knew about love.

Dominique Weasley wasn't cut out for fairytales. She has a level of class all her own.

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><p><strong>notes<strong>: please, no favouriting with reviewing! Thanks for reading!


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